


you say coincidence (i say fate)

by civillove



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Heavy focus on Sebastian/Blaine throughout, Just to explain, M/M, starts out as seemingly one-sided Kurt/Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>firsova prompted: “I just want soulmates!seblaine so badly and you haven’t write something like that as I remember. bless you *з*”<br/>summary: Ever since he was little, Blaine's heard the story about your soulmate's name being written on your wrist. At sixteen, Kurt Hummel appears on his skin, and yet he can't seem to shake the attraction and connection he has to one Sebastian Smythe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kurt and Blaine never transfer to McKinley, this is just Dalton based.

As long as he can remember, he’s known about a certain order pertaining to life. That his parents taught him and their parents taught them before that and so on and so forth, working up and down the family tree through the branches until the very source. His mother sat him down when he was young, perched him on her lap, ran her long fingers over the inside of his wrist and rocked him as she spoke.

She smelled like sunflowers and felt like pure sunshine, a warmth that bores still in his skin.

“When you turn sixteen,” She said, brushing her lips over his forehead. “A name will appear right here.” She presses the tree of blue veins on his wrist. “And that’s who you’re destined to be with. They’re your _soulmate_.”

Blaine remembers frowning, pulling at his mother’s sleeve to look at her wrist, his father’s name etched into skin. “But how?”

“The universe just knows. Knows who you are and who you’re not and that everyone belongs to someone.” She taps her finger against his button nose.

“But what if they don’t like bowties…or sketti like I do?” His fingers move to touch the tie around his neck. It’s his grandfather’s, too big, hangs loosely and skewed to the side no matter how many times he fixes it.

She laughs, the sound has a musical quality to it. “Of course they will Blaine bear.” She tickles him, making him laugh. “That’s the beauty of it. You’re assured to be with someone who likes the same things you do and loves you for who you are for the rest of your life.”

It sounds like a childish dream, when he thinks back on it, even though the romanticism of it all still pulls him in, yanks on his heart strings.

Blaine recalls her voice, how it reverberates like the slow and steady sound of a violin—

“Soulmates are connected at the wrist with a red string of fate _,”_ she strums her fingers over his wrist like she’s flicking a string, the sound silent but somehow vibrating throughout the room, waves lapping against the walls and his skin, “they are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.”

Even then Blaine doesn’t understand how a person has just _one_ soulmate and how this magical red string is supposed to determine them for you at such a young age—regardless of experiences, of life, of how things can change in the matter of a second.

000

He doesn’t believe it, not really, until _Kurt Hummel_ appears on his wrist in beautiful scrawl at sixteen.

He traces it with his fingers at night, in bed, wondering when he’s going to meet him, what he looks like, if he’ll be kind and like his bowties and old movies and contemplates whether the universe is playing a trick on him and everyone else with this name nonsense.

Just because you’re fated to be with someone does not mean that they’re your soulmate. Not really. What if Kurt’s a jerk or he doesn’t like old movies or they don’t get along? What if they fight about stupid things and don’t trust one another, what if Kurt leaves him one day because he decides he wants to live in a bigger city to match his bigger dreams—Chicago maybe or New York?

This is a mess. He doesn’t even _know_ Kurt and he’s already trying to figure out why it won’t work. But the universe can’t know everything, can it? It can’t predict the future or guarantee his happiness.

Because people change. Sometimes they don’t fit together anymore like they used to. And if he’s only got one soulmate, one name written in fancy print on his wrist, one red string tying them together at their necks—what is he supposed to do when it doesn’t work?

He doesn’t meet Kurt until he’s seventeen and he’s dawned in red and blue piping, walking down the steps at Dalton. He feels it before he turns around, there’s a tug, a harsh one, in his chest. It’s like someone knocks the wind right out of him and suddenly he _knows_. He knows from the complete and whole feeling surrounding every nerve in his being that his soulmate is behind him.

He turns as Kurt walks down a step to meet him, bumps into a tall and lanky kid, bright green eyes with a French tongue who smirks at him, looking him up and down before passing. They connect eyes for a long moment before the taller passes by him and walks down the steps.

Blaine shakes off the collision before smiling brightly. “Hi.” He says a bit breathlessly, and Kurt smiles shyly, blush kissing his cheeks.

And yeah, maybe he gets it now, the red invisible string vibrating tightly between them, warming his entire body down to his toes.

“You must be Blaine.” Kurt says, outstretches his hand and takes his own, his finger brushing over his name on Blaine’s wrist.

He feels complete in a way he never knew he could. He understands what it means to find your other half, to feel whole. Even though a part of him, a smaller part now, still doesn’t understand how Kurt and him really fit. They don’t know one another, they’re destined to be together because of names on one another’s wrists. A red string from the universe.

How does the universe _know_? How do the stars line up with the moon at night and determine that he belongs to Kurt and vice versa.

Blaine still doesn’t understand but the feeling fades into Kurt’s warm smile and the feeling of their hands pressed together.

000

He and Kurt become boyfriends. His parents love him. _He_ loves him. But in a part of him that he thought was gone wakes him up in the middle of the night sometimes.

Kurt can be selfish and he can be absent. He’s been jealous of opportunities that fall into his lap. Sometimes Blaine feels alone when he’s with him and he’s become accustomed to rubbing the name on his wrist to assure himself.

“What do you want to do this weekend?” Kurt asks, lying across his bed, flipping through a Vogue magazine.

Blaine hums, putting folded clothes away. There’s a domesticity to them already that excites and terrifies him at the same time.

“It’s supposed to rain Saturday and Sunday, I was thinking we could stay in, watch movies?” He grins, sitting on the edge of his bed. They’ve watched one old movie together when they first started dating—and it feels like an encompassing way to celebrate their time together. Kind of going right back to the start.

“There’s a Cary Grant movie marathon on—”

Kurt scrunches his nose. “Come on Blaine, I can’t tolerate one more black and white film I feel like I’m going colorblind. I don’t understand how you watch those things anyways.” He turns on his back and looks at the magazine over his face.

And just like that the conversation is over.

It’s not that Kurt doesn’t want to _watch_ the films, it’s that it’s not even a discussion. It’s a no and that’s that. And for some reason, the fact that he hardly has a choice in something as small as a movie marathon burrows under his skin, festers like an infection, makes him feel hot and sick.

He lets Kurt decide what they’ll do for the weekend and rubs at his wrist as the red string pulls tightly around his bone and muscle—it feels like it’s cutting his circulation off.

He pretends not to notice.

000

Blaine hasn’t been in any relationships, only Kurt. He’s watched his brother bounce from girl to girl (and a guy the one time) before he settles on a girl named Alice from his part-time acting career. He doesn’t understand how Cooper’s managed to upkeep so many relationships, granted they’ve been short, when none of those names had matched the one on his wrist.

He doesn’t understand the point. If they don’t match up, if you’re not destined to be with them, why waste the effort in getting involved? In developing feelings for them and living through the heartbreak when they realize that having a good time and sex can only go so far.

That they don’t belong to one another and never will.

He wonders if he would have been able to date like Cooper, if he hadn’t gotten involved with Kurt yet…if he hadn’t been fated to even meet Kurt until he was much older.

He doesn’t talk to Kurt about previous relationships, or if his boyfriend has ever even had one. It doesn’t exactly matter now, does it?

He’s meeting Kurt for dinner after school, his boyfriend holed up in the library working on a paper while Blaine decides he needs coffee or he’s probably going to fall asleep in a plate full of spaghetti at Breadstix. He waits in line at the small café at school, orders his medium drip, pays and turns to bump into someone.

It turns out it’s the same someone he bumped into a year earlier, on the steps, when he met Kurt. He starts for a moment, those green eyes finding his own as the taller steadies him.

“You almost had a chest covered in coffee.” He says, voice smooth, reaches into his stomach and squeezes. It sends a chill down his spine.

“Sorry, I’m a bit of a zombie right now. Uh, not enough coffee throughout the day.”

The other hums, stretches his hand out. “Sebastian Smythe.”

Blaine smiles, that mask that he has reserved for so many people slipping onto his face, the accommodating look in his eyes and a warm inflection in his voice. “Blaine Anderson. Are you a freshman? I feel like I haven’t seen you around a lot before.”

Sebastian smirks, takes his hand back and sticks them in his pockets. He looks far too amused for Blaine’s liking. “Do I look like a freshman to you?”

The shorter has no idea whether to let the laugh out that’s stuck at the bottom of his throat as his cheeks heat up under Sebastian’s intense gaze. He shakes his head, dips his chin and chews on his lower lip, a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth.

“No,” He decides, his fingers warm from squeezing his coffee cup too hard. “I suppose not.”

000

They get coffee. Multiple times. Sometimes on accident from running into one another. Other times because Sebastian insists and Blaine can’t turn down coffee that’s being paid for. Blaine knows, deep down, that he shouldn’t be doing this. Because regardless of the security blanket of Kurt’s name on his wrist, Sebastian’s a giant flirt.

And he has no problem making him feel flattered. He’s pretty sure he starts out his day with a checklist of ways to make him blush.

It’s only an issue because Blaine _doesn’t_ have an issue with it.

It’s harmless, _Sebastian_ is harmless. Getting coffee with him a few times isn’t going to disturb the universe. He’s sure that the taller has a name too, etched on his wrist, and that he just hasn’t met him yet. That he’s waiting around until he does, like Cooper, finding a way to spend his time. It’s almost ironic because as he gets to know Sebastian, he honestly can’t see him being tied down with red string.

He’s a free spirit, he’s an equal opportunity flirt. And Blaine almost admires that, finds it attractive, addictive maybe. That he’s so open and forward and excited not to be tied down to someone just yet.

He keeps those comments to himself.

Blaine learns a lot about Sebastian from their coffee dates. That he’s from France, that his mother still lives there, that his father is a lawyer but isn’t as present as he should be regardless that they live in the same home. He has a sister, she’s a brat according to Sebastian—but Blaine sees right through him, like glass, he cares about her in a way that he doesn’t want anyone to know or realize.

Sebastian has a mask too. It’s just not smiles and warm gestures like his own. Its innuendos and smirking and snapping at people until they put a fair amount of distance between them.

“I have to get going,” Blaine says, twirling his cup on the table but he makes no move to leave.

Sebastian hums, leaning his elbows on the table. “Another dinner date? Skip it. Tell him you met better company.”

Blaine laughs, shakes his head at Sebastian’s slow smile. “You’re insatiable, I’m sure you can find another boy to spend your time with.”

“Not one who has an ass like yours.” He says, leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

He’s about to reply, but a flash of skin catches his attention. It’s Sebastian’s wrist and it’s…blank. There’s not a name on it and he reaches across the table without thinking and grabs his forearm, runs his fingers over the smooth expanse of his wrist.

“Is this your version of hitting on me because,” Sebastian grins, “It’s about time, Anderson.”

“You don’t have a name.” Is all he says and the smile slips from the other’s lips before he rolls his eyes and pries Blaine’s fingers from his skin, he finds himself missing that warmth.

“No I don’t.”

“I don’t understand, I thought _everyone_ had a name. I’ve never seen someone who hasn’t.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m one of a kind?” He teases, takes a sip of his coffee. There’s a hint of a smile there but it’s not the same as before.

Blaine can’t find the words that are somehow stuck between his throat and under his tongue. He’s never met anyone without a name on their wrist before and he…he didn’t even know that that sort of thing was even possible. What did it mean? Why did the universe decide that Sebastian doesn’t get a soulmate? Does that mean that another person out there doesn’t have one either? How many pairs will never find one another?

Doesn’t that throw the entire system off balance?

“Is your head going to explode with this information?” Sebastian asks, snapping his fingers in front of Blaine’s face.

“I just don’t understand.” He repeats.

“It’s quite simple, really, I don’t have a soulmate.” Sebastian shrugs his shoulder, glancing to the side of them at the coffee cart.

There’s a million things Blaine wants to ask, most importantly ‘ _how_?’ even though he’s not sure Sebastian will know how to answer that. But…doesn’t not having a soulmate bother him? That he’ll eventually just…wind up with no one? That he’s not destined to be with anyone but himself? Alone?

“I don’t get it, doesn’t that…isn’t that upsetting to you?”

Sebastian turns his head, looks at him for a long moment before letting a noise out of his mouth—something stuck between a scoff and sounding amused.

“Oh, yeah, I’m _heartbroken_ about it, Killer.” He grins. “Come on, don’t be naïve. What do you think is worse? Ending up with someone because my wrist told me to and not being happy, or having a good time spending it with whoever I want to and end up alone?”

Blaine swallows, his fingers instinctively tracing his own wrist through his shirt. “But I thought that the… ‘red string of fate’ could never be broken.” He feels a bit silly saying it out loud.

But Sebastian doesn’t miss a beat. “Mine was. Or maybe I never had one to begin with. Maybe the person I was supposed to be with died or got fated to someone else.” His eyes trail over his face, his hands reaching across the table for Blaine’s.

Blaine tenses as Sebastian’s fingers push his sleeve up, revealing Kurt’s name. The taller smirks at it, traces the ‘H’ with his pointer finger.

“Soulmates aren’t determined by something having to tell you who you belong with.” Sebastian shakes his head and Blaine tries to ignore how his hands feel on his skin, the way the warmth snakes into his pores and stays there.

His eyes trace Sebastian’s features, wonders if he noticed the freckles that speckle his cheekbones before, or the bridge of his nose. He gets lost in memorizing the way his eyes light up and darken at the same time, such an intense green, the beauty mark on his cheek, the lines on his face when he smiles, the way he licks his lips.

Blaine feels a part of himself break away, disconnect, something deep inside his chest. He has no idea what it is or if he’ll even need it later but doesn’t try to reach for it to put it back into its place.

“Don’t you think anything happens on accident?” Sebastian asks, and Blaine tries to restart his brain, to actually think about the question at hand.

Tries _not_ the think of all the times he’s accidently bumped into Sebastian and how that’s formed a friendship between them.

But he shakes his head. Finds the words that feel odd in his mouth. “Accident and coincidence don’t mix well with fate.”

Sebastian smiles softly, lets his hands go. “Someone should tell the universe that.”

000

He and Sebastian have less time to meet for coffee as months bleed by, dead leaves covering with snow as November fades into December. Finals are rounding the corners at Dalton, lurking behind every door, between every book at its spine and between the words on a word document. Everyone is swamped with work and it’s stifling—everyone has their outlets.

Kurt sleeps in, Blaine drinks more coffee than he should and Sebastian spends his nights at Scandals blowing off steam from being cooped up.

“Do you ever think that the universe makes mistakes and calls them coincidences?” He asks Kurt one night as they’re studying, breaking the silence.

Kurt frowns, looks up from his text book. “Why are you asking me this?”

He gets a text from Sebastian that instant, as if he’s answering Kurt’s question. He presses the text open and shrugs his shoulder. “No reason.”

The text is a jumble of letters, also known as Sebastian’s trashed and needs a ride back to the dorm. He glances at Kurt and stands, grabbing his coat, letting him know where he’s going—and just as expected Kurt doesn’t like it, almost demands that Blaine doesn’t go.

But Blaine makes his own decision, his own choice, and he can’t ignore how good that feels. He kisses Kurt’s cheek and assures him that it’s alright, that Sebastian is harmless.

He doesn’t know whether he’s trying to convince his boyfriend or himself because people like Sebastian are anything but.

000

It’s snowing when he finds Sebastian waiting for him outside of Scandals, he’s standing there with a long button down on but no coat and Blaine has the half a mind to scold him as he gets out of the car but the words die on his lips. The taller has a split lip and he’s shivering and all Blaine can do is place his hands on his arms and run them down to his wrists, where a name isn’t carved into skin, before tugging him towards the car.

“Seb, what _happened_?”

Sebastian smirks but his voice is a bit strained in a few places. “Put my mouth somewhere it doesn’t belong.”

Blaine doesn’t ask Sebastian to clarify but he’s pretty sure he already knows what happened. He probably had been kissing (or God, something worse) someone who had brought their soulmate to Scandals. And knowing Sebastian and his snarky disposition that definitely equaled the split lip marring his face.

He takes him back to his dorm room, helps him inside and decides to stay until his split lip is looked at since Sebastian’s roommate seems to be out for the night. He closes the door with his foot and tries to help the taller to the bed, who’s dragging his feet and mumbling something about too many tequila shots.

Blaine feels like he’s had this upcoming conversation with Sebastian eight million times. While having a name on your wrist ties you to someone else (or ties you down, as the other likes to rephrase) it also keeps you out of trouble more often than not.

When you know you belong with someone, even if you haven’t met them, unless you’re Cooper, it lulls you into a sense of safety. Of knowing that you’ll meet your certain someone at some point in your life. That all you have to do is wait, be patient. Blaine knows this because it’s something he’s observed from his parents, from his friends.

But Sebastian is a loose cannon because he doesn’t belong to _anyone_. He’s told Blaine that he’s not stupid, he knows what he’s doing, that it takes two to makeout or have sex and all the people he attracts come _willingly_ so how is this always _his_ fault?

Sebastian groans as he lands on the bed, Blaine turning him over to lean against the headboard. “For someone who’s, apparently, not stupid you sure as hell do _a lot_ of stupid things.” He mutters.

“It’s not my fault,” Sebastian swats Blaine’s hands away and untucks his shirt from his jeans. “People wonder what it’s like to spend the night with someone they’re not destined with. It doesn’t mean anything, s’harmless.”

“Yeah?” Blaine asks, pointedly pressing his thumb to Sebastian’s lip, making him hiss.

“ _Fuck_ , stop.” He glares, running his tongue over the cut. Blaine swallows, tries not to let his eyes wander over his mouth and busies himself by heading to the bathroom down the hall to get a paper towel with cool water on it.

He steps back into Sebastian’s room and hovers over him, tilting his chin with his fingers before gently pressing the paper towel to his lip. Sebastian lets him, those green eyes traveling over his face in a way Blaine pretends not to notice.

“It doesn’t hurt to be curious.” Sebastian whispers, his breath brushing over his fingers like a pointed touch. If he ignores him enough, pretends the words he says have no meaning, maybe he’ll start to believe the mantra in his head that says Sebastian is wrong.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.”

Blaine’s eyes snap up to the other, an intake of breath getting caught in his throat. No, he’s _not_ right. He can’t be. “You’re wrong. I love Kurt.” He says, without a moment’s hesitation. He’s surprised at the steadiness of his voice.

But Sebastian is quick at making his choices feel insecure, _unsteady_ , he has no idea how he can just do that to him every damn time. “Because your wrist told you to?” He laughs.

Sebastian has this way of getting under his skin without his permission, without even _trying_.

But it’s not like Blaine hasn’t thought about it, the fact that his own skin might be wrong, that the universe has no idea what the fuck it’s talking about. That fate depends on people, not on a name. That people change and it’s impossible to forge out who belongs with who, undoubtedly and irrevocably.

Was it possible to have more than one soulmate?

That he’s thought about what Sebastian has said about accidents and coincidence. That it keeps him up at night sometimes along with that smooth voice, bright and intense green eyes and pointed touch.

Blaine just shakes his head, doesn’t know what he would say if he could find the words anyways.

Sebastian licks his lips, shifts down in bed so he’s almost lying down. He’s not propped up against the headboard anymore. “The soulmate thing only works because people put so much faith in it. What about _choice_ and the excitement that sometimes comes from making mistakes?”

The only thing that keeps flashing in Blaine’s head, like a pulse, is that Sebastian is wrong. He’s wrong.

But is he? _Is_ he wrong?

Blaine walks forward, intent on tucking Sebastian into bed and then leaving for the night because he’s confused and his head hurts and Kurt is probably wondering where he is…when his feet get tangled up—on accident—in an article of clothing on the floor and he trips. The taller reaches out and grabs him but he’s too top heavy at that point and lands with a noise against Sebastian’s chest on the bed.

He doesn’t move, like he’s assessing what body part has landed where. And it takes him an achingly long moment, the space between quickened heartbeats, to realize he’s pressed perfectly against Sebastian’s long and lanky body. That they sort of…fit in this haphazard way that he doesn’t want to begin to understand. His chest is splayed out against Sebastian’s ribcage and sternum, stomach pushing against the taller’s as he tries to breathe in and out, their faces fractions away from one another, his breath hot and teasing to the pores on his face and his lips. His legs are between the other’s and he’s not—he can’t even think of his thighs, his _hips_ , up higher—

A sharp intake of air greets his lungs and Sebastian’s eyes trace down Blaine’s face to his lips. Their noses graze.

“It’s ironic to me that you keep finding yourself in situations like this Killer,” Sebastian smiles, tipping his head forward so that their lips touch. “For someone who doesn’t believe in coincidences.”

A choked noise leaves Blaine’s lips because it’s not Sebastian who kisses him. It’s _Blaine_ who kisses Sebastian.

000

A month has passed since that night in Sebastian’s dorm. They haven’t spoken about it. Sebastian, thankfully, pretends the night had never happened. Neither one of them brings it up.

The kiss shared between them fades into the darkness of the room that night. Disappears. Vanishes.

And even though Blaine has been trying to avoid Sebastian left and right, he can’t seem to stop running into him. He doesn’t dare to try and give the happenstance a title, a definition, to acknowledge that it feels like it’s something more than just an accident, a mistake, a coincidence.

Regardless of what it is, he can’t get Sebastian out of his head. He just hopes and prays that Kurt doesn’t notice because it’s just…something that he doesn’t seem to be able to control.

Blaine just…finds himself thinking about him at the most inopportune times to the point where it’s infuriating. That stupid smarmy grin or smirks in his direction, general leers as he wears a tighter pair of gray chinos or dawns his gym shorts for class. The problem is, he knows, is how much it doesn’t really bother him. Kurt has made him feel talented, special, and while those things are obviously important Sebastian does _that_ and gives him something his boyfriend does not.

He makes him feel wanted. Sexy, even.

And while it’s stupid or superficial, he can’t deny how he feels. He can’t do it anymore. So he just…gives up, stops trying to avoid Sebastian (not that that’s working anyways) and just lets whatever happen, happen. He thought he’d feel different about him after time had passed, but newsflash he hasn’t. He knows spending time with Sebastian probably isn’t the best thing but _something_ just keeps drawing them towards one another.

It’s better if he doesn’t think about it. So he doesn’t.

He tells Kurt he’s hanging out with Sebastian sometimes as his friend, because that’s what he considers him as. And while Blaine has always had this sunshine disposition, has always had a knack for making friends, he has trouble exposing himself and letting people in.

And Sebastian is the only friend that he feels like knows him better than a lot of people do, he’s somehow managed to crawl under his skin and sleep there and pry back his ribs and study the beating of his heart, harbor his secrets.

He doesn’t know what’s going on with him, exactly, but something has shifted in his chest behind his sternum. He keeps rubbing his wrist like there’s a crawling sensation under his muscles but the skin isn’t even irritated or red until he starts touching it.

He has to talk about this with someone but he doesn’t know who. His mother maybe. All he knows is that has to _tell_ someone or he’s going to start spiraling.

“Are you even listening?”

Blaine looks up from his dinner plate at Kurt, who is staring pointedly at him. He swallows, trying not to look as guilty as he feels.

“I’m sorry.”

Kurt sighs, eating the last bit of his spaghetti before taking the plate into Blaine’s kitchen. They’re home for the weekend, a long break at Dalton and Blaine had thought it would have been a good idea to invite Kurt over for a home cooked dinner.

Maybe not.

Blaine closes his eyes for a moment and shakes his head; sometimes he can’t help but feel like he’s reduced to these big romantic gestures that don’t really mean anything in the end.

Like he has something to prove to Kurt or to himself, he’s not sure.

He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose before following Kurt into the kitchen a moment later, setting his plate down among the dishes in the sink.

“I’m sorry,” He says again, touching Kurt’s shoulder. “I’ve had a lot on my plate these last few days.”

Kurt brings his arm up and moves Blaine’s hand off his shoulder. “It’s not just the past few days, Blaine and I have a lot going on too.”

Blaine sighs, turning the water on in the sink to rinse some of the dishes. “I know you do Kurt, I know you’ve been stressed with stuff going on with your dad and classes and the Warbler meetings. I said I was sorry,” He pulls back to dry his hands on a dishtowel. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to show some interest in what I’m saying!” Kurt’s voice is gaining more and more frustration by the minute. “Every time I try to talk to you about something important you zone out!”

That’s not true but something in Kurt’s voice strikes a nerve in him and instead of defending himself all Blaine feels like doing is arguing. He angles his body towards him. “Maybe if we talked about something other than school or class and how you eventually want to go to NYADA for once…”

“Well, excuse me for trying to talk to my boyfriend about what’s going on in my life!”

His indignant tone just adds fuel to Blaine’s slowly growing fire. His fists clench as anger starts to build up in his chest. “Which is fine when it’s not all the goddamn time!” He tries to keep his voice in control. “I _know_ school and the Warblers are important, but I have things going on too that we don’t even get to half the time—”

“It’s not all the time.” Kurt tries to defend, crossing his arms over his chest.

Before he can even finish his sentence Blaine talks over him. “Come on, Kurt! I tried to fool around with you before we even started dinner and all you wanted to do was talk about the solos that you’re _not_ happy with me singing at sectionals.”

Kurt glares at him. “Oh right, it’s so wrong when _I_ try to talk to you about school,” Completely ignoring his statement about the Warbler solos. “but when Sebastian utters something about professors or how you’re the perfect lead for the Warblers it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard.”

Blaine sends him an equal glare; something snapping inside him at the mention of Sebastian’s name. “Don’t bring Sebastian into this.” He warns.

“He’s already a part of this!” Kurt yells.

A spike of anxiety waves throughout Blaine’s stomach. He doesn’t want to know what Kurt means by that. In fact, he’s perfectly fine with leaving this entire conversation at where it is, leaving it unresolved. But it’s too late now, and he knows this, Kurt’s already worked up and Blaine is pissed off and through with his boyfriend taking a selfish standpoint to things.

What? Is he not even allowed to have _friends_ now that support him?

“Would you keep your voice down?” Blaine snaps in an angry whisper.

Kurt pointedly ignores him. “You think I don’t notice how close you two have gotten? How—how you just you sit there at the café sometimes and listen attentively while Sebastian drones on and on about how Professor Richardson seemingly has it ‘out for him’ because he gave him a C on his history paper and now he’s having trouble with that grade and lacrosse?”

“He’s my friend and he was upset, he worked really hard on that paper Kurt. Hours spent and wasted in the library, I’d be upset too. What was I supposed to do? Just ignore him?” He asks, exasperated. “I would have done the same thing if it had been you, so why are you making such a big deal out of me making sure that he was alright?”

“Right of course, the world literally stops when Sebastian Smythe is upset.” Kurt hurriedly gathers his coat, slipping it on as fast as he can, ignoring everything he’s said.

Blaine knows _exactly_ what this is; he can read it all over Kurt’s face. He’s jealous. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Kurt.” Blaine sneers. “Sebastian’s become a really good friend and yeah, I care about him. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“Except that it’s more than that.” Kurt puts his bag over his shoulder and shakes his head. “You look at him…sometimes and there’s this…admiration in your eyes that I will _never_ understand. When you touch his hand when you’re telling him something exciting or give him a hug his entire demeanor changes. There’s more to Sebastian than his smirks, Blaine. And I can see _right_ through him.” Blaine swallows, looking down at the kitchen floor.

“We just…understand each other.” He says lamely; he can’t explain it either. He can’t get Kurt to understand any more than he was already trying to.

Kurt shakes his head, disgusted. “Typical Sebastian, trying to steal people’s attention or _boyfriends_ for that matter whenever he can.”

Blaine’s frustration finally hits its peak and he slams his hand down on the counter, sending silverware a fraction into the air and clanging noisily as they reach the surface again.

“This fight is not about Sebastian!” Arguing about Sebastian is not what Blaine had been angry about in the first place. Kurt had turned this whole fight into ‘Sebastian is stealing my boyfriend’. That’s _not_ where their problems lied.

He groans before running his hands over his face, his one palm stinging as the skin turns red.

“He’s not what started this.” He says more calmly, even though his voice still has hints of strained frustration and anger.

Kurt can’t even look him in the eye as his voice trembles. “No, but he’s the one who’s ending it.”

Blaine’s heart slams up into his throat and he stutters out a reply as Kurt starts making his way to the front door. “Wait, Kurt…Kurt wait a minute.” He grabs his arm. “Are you…are you breaking up with me?”

Kurt chokes out a laugh as a tear runs down his cheek. “No, you can tell _Sebastian_ we’re taking a break…I’m sure you’ll find time to talk to him about this.”

And with that he slams the door in his face.

000

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first part! :)

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of three.

Kurt avoids him for weeks, leaving them in this limbo that makes him feel sort of helpless, regardless of what his wrist says. It’s probably a good thing they’re on winter break, Blaine doesn’t have to worry about running into him in the halls or trying to come up with a schedule where one of them is in the dorm room while the other is not, avoiding eye contact during Warblers practice…but the problem is that they don’t try and resolve anything before heading back to school.

And Blaine thought they would have at least talked to one another before then.

But there’s nothing. They head back to school in even worse shape. The red string between them feels frayed, chopped up, tied back together in places where they’ve snapped apart from one another. The string will never be pristine again, it’ll never feel or be like it was.

A coffee is set down in front of him and he looks up to see Sebastian, a breath of fresh air into his lungs as his eyes travel over his long and lanky form. His blazer isn’t buttoned at his waist, it hangs loosely on his shoulders as he sits across from him and Blaine can catch hints of his skin and strong, expensive cologne that settles into his stomach like a punch to his gut.

“You look awful and for as many compliments as I like to give you,” Sebastian shakes his head. “That’s saying something. What’s wrong?”

Blaine doesn’t respond and wraps his hands around the coffee cup instead, like it anchors him to the table and this conversation, the heat burning the pads of his fingers.

“I think…”

Sebastian waits, is patient, sips on his own coffee and nods his head to a guy across the room that Blaine doesn’t know.

“Kurt wanted to take a break.” It sounds weird, saying it out loud, putting it out there into the space of air between them. There’s so much more to it than that but he doesn’t have the energy to explain…doesn’t know if he could really do so anyways.

The taller hums, like he’s not surprised in the slightest and Blaine takes a sip of his coffee without blowing on it first. The liquid scalds his tongue, but it’s sort of comforting in a way, and his heart warms to the fact that it’s just how he likes it—medium drip, with extra cream and cinnamon. Of course Sebastian knows his coffee order.

He expects a million different things out of Sebastian; a flirty wink, a snide remark, a hurtful comment about Kurt maybe, for him to bring up that kiss that happened so long ago (or at least that’s what it feels like—but he can still sense the impression of his lips on his own, his breathy moan as Sebastian slides his tongue into his mouth) but what comes out instead is—

“Did Kurt say he wanted to see other people while on this break?”

Blaine swallows, looks down at the coffee cup between his hands in contemplation. He honestly hadn’t thought about that. He doesn’t even know how to go on a date, not really anyway. He and Kurt had sort of skipped over dating and had gone right to being boyfriends. And sure, they had had dates after that, but going out with someone without being in a relationship is obviously a different experience.

“He didn’t exactly spell out to me the terms of our break Sebastian, we had a fight and he left.”

“I’m just saying,” Sebastian leans back in his chair and Blaine pointedly ignores how his legs open up, just slightly, under the table. “You could use this as an opportunity. Go out. Have fun,” He smiles at him. “See everything that you’ve been missing out on.”

Blaine looks at him for a moment, contemplating the idea a lot longer than he should be. “I’m not exactly the dating type.”

Sebastian snorts. “We need to stop hanging out, you’re starting to sound like me.”

A soft smile teases the ends of his mouth before he runs a hand through his hair. It’s not as organized as it usually is, a bunch of mismatch curls springing out of his gel. He’s not sure what Sebastian is proposing, exactly, stuck between trusting him wholeheartedly and approaching him with caution. It’s that medium that attracts him the most, he realizes, because Sebastian can be surprising and unpredictable and being with him sometimes is nearly intoxicating.

It’s wrong and somehow _perfect_ at the same time.

“I don’t know.” He says softly, his voice hesitant but open for Sebastian to convince him.

And he does. “Look if you’re so assured by the fact that Kurt is the one on your wrist then a meaningless night out isn’t going to change that.”

Blaine sighs before tapping his fingers on the table, looking into Sebastian’s eyes before slowly nodding his head. Maybe taking a chance will get the urge out of his system.

“Okay.” He whispers and Sebastian grins.

“Okay.”

000

It turns out he has no idea what to wear on a non-date…outing. It’s weird because it’s sort of a date, even though Sebastian would never use that classification and he’s not sure if he wants to either because of Kurt. They’re taking a break, they’re not broken up. But he’s spending the night with another boy, maybe eating and hanging out and really, isn’t that what a date is? He has no idea what’s in store for him because Sebastian wouldn’t tell him but he finds that sort of thrilling in a way he probably shouldn’t.

Blaine rubs at his wrist before putting his bowtie into place for the fifteenth time, his mother knocking on his door to poke her head in as he looks at himself in the mirror.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were going out for the night,” She smiles and comes in, putting her hands on his shoulders. She smells like sunflowers and cooking oil. “I was going to make potato pancakes for dinner.”

“No, I uh, I have a thing.” Thing. A non-date but sort of date thing. With a boy who doesn’t believe in dates or soulmates for that matter.

“Kurt can stay for dinner and then you two can go out.” She offers, “There’s not many places to eat around here that isn’t Breadstix.” She winks and the expression causes a weight that feels like stone to drop in his belly.

He feels guilty.

“It’s not with Kurt.” He swallows and looks down at his hands a moment. “It’s not a date either.” He says quickly, probably too fast because his mother raises her eyebrows. “It’s…it’s with a boy from school. His name is Sebastian.”

“Sebastian.” She smiles softly and turns him around, letting her fingers trail through his hair and loosen it from the gel a little bit. “But it’s not a date, hmm?”

“No, he uh—I wouldn’t do that to Kurt.” He frowns. “He’s my soulmate.” He says it like that’s an explanation enough but it’s starting to feel like some sort of excuse.

Blaine expects his mother to give him this look like she’s disappointed or wary of his decision to spend time with a boy who isn’t his soulmate. He thinks about the red string, how it’s probably perfectly tied around his mother’s wrist and linking her to his father somewhere else in the house. How it’s probably not frayed and tied at certain places to keep it together like it is between him and Kurt.

“I think you’re thinking too hard about what that word really means. Soulmate can have many connotations.”

She smiles at him, turning him back around to look at the mirror. She tugs on the bowtie and shakes her head and Blaine quickly undoes the fabric and tugs it away from his neck. He unbuttons the top button and lets the collars fall apart from one another. She hums in approval, rubbing his arms.

“People think a soulmate is their perfect fit, and in some ways they are,” Blaine thinks about the ways he and Kurt really fit together, the way it makes him feel when it feels like everything is sliding perfectly into place. “But they can also be like a mirror,” His eyes find her gaze in the mirror and then his own, bright hazel shining back at him.

He thinks of intense green ones.

“Showing you everything that’s holding you back, someone who tears down your walls and shakes you awake. Show you obstacles and addictions, breaks your heart so you can start over.”

_“I love Kurt.”_

_“Because your wrist told you to?”_

Blaine’s not even sure if she’s talking about Kurt anymore, he can’t tell. He’s not sure when the lines he thought organized everything became so blurred. He thought he could rely on the name on his wrist to tell him everything he needed to do but what if Sebastian was right? What if the person you were fated to be didn’t complete you the way you thought they could?

“Have fun tonight, okay?” She smiles, squeezing his arms. “Try not to stay out too late.”

There’s a million and one things he wants to ask her but he doesn’t know where to start. He watches her leave, looking at his reflection in the mirror before pulling a cardigan on to slide the fabric down over his wrists.

Out of sight out of mind.

000

Sebastian picks him up, right on time, and his mother waves at them as he gets in the car. The taller chuckles when he starts the engine, pulling out of the driveway as Blaine puts his seatbelt on.

“I feel like I should have assured her I would be on my best behavior with her son.” He winks and Blaine flushes.

“There’s no reason to lie to my mother Sebastian.” He teases and the other smirks, his long fingers running over the circular rim of the steering wheel. The action doesn’t cause him to stare or anything.

The night is cold, it’s stopped snowing for the night, he thinks, but everything has a layering of fluffy white. It glitters when the headlights hit patches and when the moon peeks out from behind the clouds. The heat in the car is comforting, warms the very bits of him that felt frozen even from the short distance between his house and the car. He leans back into the seat, sticking his hands in his pockets, trying not to watch how the muscles in Sebastian’s arms and neck contract and relax as he drives.

He has no idea what’s in store for the night but when Sebastian pulls the car over and there’s nothing to the sides of them but snow, woods and trees, he gets a bit worried.

“This isn’t the part where you assure me that no one can hear me scream and then murder me, right?”

Sebastian smirks, shaking his head as he pulls the keys from the ignition. “So dramatic, come on.”

Blaine pulls a beanie out of his coat pocket as he gets out of the car, pulling it over his curls as he follows Sebastian into the woods. The taller has a flashlight but it’s really not needed, surprisingly, with the brightness of the moon overhead. He steps over snow covered logs and winds between trees and watches as puffs of air leave Sebastian’s lips like cigarette smoke.

He hears the trickling of water in the distance and they come to a stop at a creek. Most of it is frozen over, between rocks and sticks that have fallen into the water from trees overhead. Blaine imagines that it’d probably be gorgeous around the summer time, the sun winding through the leaves of the trees and sparkling along the water. The rush of the stream over those rocks and sticks and the splash against the edges, licking onto the dirt.

Some of the water is springing free of the ice, gliding over the surface. He moves to press his boot onto the ice and watches it crack under his force, the water engulfing the toe of his shoe a moment before rushing down the creek.

It’s just as beautiful now as it would be in the summer. Everything is dead but the water is pressing up against the ice, escaping, trying to show some signs of vitality. He sort of gets that, in a way, wanting to break free after a while of feeling constrained.

Sebastian bumps his shoulder into his own, giving him a small smile. “I thought you’d like it here. Didn’t you tell me during coffee one time that you used to do something like this with your brother in the summer?”

Blaine tugs the beanie down over his ears and turns his head to look at Sebastian, a mixture of surprise and affection building up in his chest cavity at the thought that he actually _remembered_ something he told him about his family. There was a lot more to Sebastian Smythe that a lot of people, even himself sometimes, didn’t realize. He was willing to listen to him even though it was a boring story about Cooper and sunburn and throwing rocks into a stream. About how that was one of the last times he felt connected to him like brothers, before competitions and distance and Blaine feeling like he always had to prove himself to his parents where Cooper just sailed through with approval.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sebastian asks, almost amused sounding. “I have ears okay? And you droned on about that summer for a whole ten minutes, I couldn’t block you out at that point.”

He knows it’s a defense mechanism of Sebastian’s to somehow cheapen the moment, to try and avoid how bringing him here actually means a lot to Blaine, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he squeezes his hands in his pockets and leans up on his toes, presses his lips to Sebastian’s.

It’s the second time he’s kissed Sebastian but the first time he’s really meant it.

The first time had been a combination of desperation, of proximity, of the fact that Sebastian’s breath sort of smelled like intoxicating alcohol and the press of their bodies against one another’s.

This was purer, in a way, this felt real. The cold nipping at his cheeks and the dryness of their lips, the soft noise that leaves Sebastian’s mouth and the way he puts himself back onto the heels of his feet when the kiss is finished.

“Was that an accident?” Sebastian asks because he probably expects Blaine to regret it, to explain with words that sound like accident or mistake or coincidence. A soft smile plays with his lips as Blaine feels his tongue sneak out and wet his own, brushing against his lower lip.

It sends a shiver down Blaine’s spine and Sebastian wraps his arms around his waist because he thinks he’s cold. He lets him.

An accident. He could say that, he can pretend that this kiss had never happened like the first.

“Definitely not.” Blaine says instead and let’s their foreheads rest together.

000

When he comes home that night his cheeks are chapped from the cold and his lips are red from small kisses to Sebastian’s lips. His heart is warm and his chest is light and it’s like his mother can read words etched onto his ribcage, see right through him.

“Did you have fun with Sebastian?” She asks, sets down the book she was reading as she stands in the living room, moving towards the kitchen to make them tea.

“Yeah,” He says, almost breathlessly.

“People can take you by surprise if you let them,” She says, puts the kettle on the stove and turns the fire on. It’s like she’s reading his mind or something because that’s all Sebastian seems to be doing lately: taking him by surprise.

His sleeve slides down his arm as he reaches into a cupboard above the stove to get down some teacups, the cursive K and H naturally grabbing his attention. His skin is red and he frowns as he runs his thumb over the area, trying to swallow the sensation about how odd Kurt’s name is starting to look on his wrist.

Blaine turns towards his mother, leans against the counter for a moment. He wants to ask her if it’s possible for someone to have two soulmates…but finds it more exciting and unpredictable if he tries to figure it out on his own.

000

What’s great and at the same time downright frustrating about Sebastian is that they don’t talk about the things that they probably should or need to. That thing between them at the creek develops over a month, he and Kurt are still on the outs, not talking, not discussing whether or not they’re broken up or just broken.

That seems to be a common theme that he keeps coming across these days.

Maybe it’s better that they don’t talk about it. Sebastian doesn’t do things like commitment and while Blaine’s never been okay with causal anything, the taller’s hands are warm when they settle on his waist or slide between his fingers and his lips are soft and teasing as they nip at the skin of his neck or kiss his lower lip. His touch is addicting and he can’t seem to pull himself away from the black hole that _is_ Sebastian Smythe.

He makes Blaine feel good, in ways that he never thought he could. He makes him consider things about his life that he’s missing or had all along, he breaks him open and fishes out his doubts and insecurities and it scares the ever living shit out of him.

Because he can’t tell what’s going to happen next. Nothing is predictable, everything is on accident. Everything is a mistake.

But it’s never felt so right.

Blaine doesn’t like the feeling of not knowing what he’s doing, of not having a semblance of control. He doesn’t believe in those people who date between ending up with their soulmate because what’s the point anyways? And that’s what he’d be doing if he broke up with Kurt. If he saw Sebastian and let him in, let him burrow between the spaces of his ribs, grow there, sprout petals.

All that he knows is that he needs to do something, even if it’s not exactly the _right_ thing. Even though it might go against things he’s believed before. He has to do _something._ And sitting there while letting his coffee rapidly cool is not one of them.

He finds Kurt in the library and pauses at the table. “We need to talk.”

Kurt looks up at him and nods slowly, motioning for Blaine to sit down. “Yes, we do.” He pulls the chair out and sits, glancing around at some people milling around the stacks, not paying any close attention to them.

He feels a certain amount of courage build up in his ribcage, the enthralling and terrifying sensation flare under his lungs, burning them as he holds his breath, as words tumble in his mouth itching to get out. He manages to part his lips, starting to form the sentence, a thrilling hand-like grasp squeezing his stomach—

“It was a mistake for me to lash out at you,” Kurt says, taking the wind right out of his sails. He hopes his visible deflation isn’t as obvious as it feels. “I…I overreacted about Sebastian. About everything.”

Out of everything he had expected to happen when he found Kurt at the library, an apology from him hadn’t been one of them.

He feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, his hearing leveling out and his body numb, everything suddenly dull but hypersensitive, like he’s underwater. Kurt’s talking but he can’t really make out what he’s saying and he feels sweat kiss the back of his neck.

“Blaine?” Kurt places his hand on his and he suddenly snaps back into place, whiplash clear in his features. “I miss you. _God_ , I…” He shakes his head, his fingers curling in on his own.

No, he gets it without Kurt needing to say anything. It’s easy how you can miss something when you risk losing it, when it’s gone.

And just like that his resolve snaps, like a rubber band inside him, and everything he had wanted to say gets swallowed up—buried deep inside of him where he can’t find it again. His fingers worry over his wrist with Kurt’s name on it, the skin red and raw from his touch.

He can’t find it in himself to break up with Kurt…because Kurt’s here apologizing. And doesn’t he owe it to them, to their relationship thus far, to make it work? Because they’re going to end up together anyways? Because chances are terrifying and they can hurt and turn into mistakes.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry too.” Blaine says, even though he’s not. He’s got nothing to apologize for.

Kurt smiles and hugs him, squeezes him so tight like Blaine might evaporate. Blaine presses his nose into Kurt’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and wonders if there will ever come a point where he can selfishly make a decision for himself.

000

Blaine likes to consider himself an observant person, he has keen senses in terms of judging how a person feels and from there he works out how he can help; whether it’s a listening ear, advice or a shoulder to cry on. His mother tells him it’s a blessing and a curse at the same time because while it makes him a better friend and boyfriend it tends to mean that he puts others needs before his own.

But it’s because of his detailed observations that he knows something isn’t right with Sebastian.

It’s small at first, barely noticeable, but his smirk doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He stops hitting on him, or the flirtatious comments are reused and non-imaginative at best. He stops trying to make him laugh or blush, and he forgets coffee dates constantly.

But then it’s more prominent, in the way Sebastian’s carrying himself. He’s demeanor is less tall, he shrinks in on himself, and he’s mean. Blaine used to understand his snarky comments; in a way they were just shielding other people from getting close to who Sebastian is, behind the mask, but his banter recently has been jagged. Crude. Meant to hurt other people instead of using it as a shield to hide himself.

He watches him sometimes in Biology, the sunlight creeps through the window and highlights the freckles on his cheeks, makes his eyes brighter, brings out the very soft burnt orange tone to his brown hair. Sebastian would sometimes catch his gaze and pointedly lick his lips or make a sexual gesture to get Blaine to laugh or blush.

But he does neither now and all Blaine can do is watch Sebastian avoid his gaze and rub at his wrist, playing with the material of his button down shirt like he’s bothered or distracted. When the bell rings Blaine barely has time to catch up with him as he bolts out of the room, long legs carrying him down the expanse of the hallway.

Blaine catches his arm, tugs him to a halt. “Hey, wait. I wanted to talk to you.”

Sebastian licks his lips, holds himself tightly together as he pauses, lets a slow breath out like it’s agonizing. “What? I’m going to be late for a History test.”

He doesn’t expect the brush off and it stutters his speech a moment before he restarts. “Have you been avoiding me?” Sebastian laughs but that doesn’t answer his question. “Is this about…” He takes a step forward, lowers his voice. “The kiss in the woods?” He knows that they haven’t talked about it…but he expects it’s the same old story with Sebastian.

They pretend it never happened even though it’s clearly meant something to the both of them. Blaine thinks that in the span of a month where Kurt was absent and Sebastian was there that they could have been something more than they are. Develop it into something that matters even though there’s always this sort of roadblock between their bodies telling them that they don’t fit, preventing it from just _happening_.

He knows that after that kiss in the woods, their time spent constantly together with small touches and kisses shared feels like _something_ even though it’s better if they give it another name. If they call it _nothing._ Because Sebastian doesn’t enjoy commitment and Blaine doesn’t want confrontation.

Especially now since he’s patched things up with Kurt.

“Of course you think this is about you.”

Blaine swallows, adjusts the satchel strap on his shoulder. The hallway starts to lose students, everyone slipping into their respective classrooms until it’s just them.

He doesn’t know what else this would be about. “You’ve been off. I’m just trying to be your friend.”

“Which is a little different than being my _mother,_ don’t you think?” He snaps, setting off something cold in Blaine’s stomach.

He hasn’t told Sebastian yet, about Kurt, about how they’ve sort of patched things up and made everything whole again. Or at least he likes to think so. Likes to convince himself. He doesn’t see this conversation getting any easier and maybe this isn’t the right time but it sort of slips out of his mouth before he can stop it.

“I didn’t break up with Kurt.”

Sebastian stares at him for a long moment before shaking his head, looking towards the ceiling as a laugh crawls out of his throat. It sounds tired and strained. “You know, I never knew that the universe had a sense of humor.”

He brushes past Blaine and he turns to watch him go, confusion weighing heavily in the honey part of his hazel eyes.

It takes Blaine a long time to realize that Sebastian wasn’t talking about him and Kurt. Not really, anyways.

000

It’s a week before he sees Sebastian again, which is saying something since he has one of the same classes with him. To be honest he doesn’t really count that as seeing him because when he’s in class, seated across from him, it’s like he’s not even there. He doesn’t know which is more awful, not seeing Sebastian at all or Sebastian pretending he doesn’t exist.

The worst part of it is that he _misses_ him, even though he tries to pretend he doesn’t.

Sebastian just…always seems to get him when he needs it. When he can’t speak the words himself or say it outloud, the other just understands. Knows how he feels. And he _listens_ to him in a way that matters. Not that Kurt doesn’t pay attention, he does, but it’s different. It feels different.

It is different.

Sebastian isn’t Kurt, in all the right and wrong ways at the same time.

He misses the easiness of their relationship. Blaine doesn’t have to try with Sebastian, because Sebastian already thinks he’s perfect ( _Your ass isn’t the only thing flawless about you, Anderson_ ) and he realizes how much that means to him when it’s gone. Blaine always feels like he has something to prove. To his parents. His teachers. His friends. _Kurt._

Blaine doesn’t understand where this sudden fight between them came from.

He has a hard time believing that this is about a few spur of the moment kisses shared between them. Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges or have his feelings hurt simply because they won’t talk about them. He’s more confident than that; he has more _pride_ than that.

Then what exactly _is_ the problem?

He sighs, letting his palms spread out across the wood of one of the tables at the Dalton café, digging his nails into the surface like he might be able to leave an impression. Kurt barely has time for coffee, between running to the library and practicing solos for the Warblers.

Which he guesses he can understand, but it’d be nice to be able to look at someone across the table and have a conversation with them. It feels empty. _He_ feels empty.

He glances up when he sees movement to his right, in line for coffee, and it’s _Sebastian_. A warm sensation grips his ribcage, fills up his entire body and he doesn’t feel empty anymore. He swallows over a lump in his throat that seemingly come out of nowhere and he finds his eyes gliding over the other’s body like he’s trying to remember what he looks like. Seeing him again is like a hard punch to the gut, air knocked right out of his lungs.

He suddenly wants to apologize even though he has no idea what to say sorry for but if it patches things up between them he’s willing to do it. He makes a move to get up but Sebastian turns and greets someone to his left.

Another guy.

It’s like a hand has wedged itself into his sternum, squeezing his ribs together until he swears he hears snapping noises. Sebastian smiles and leans down to whisper in the guy’s ear, his hand traveling down his back as he speaks.

The other boy, who he now recognizes as Robert from one of his classes, blushes a dark crimson color that makes Blaine sick to his stomach. He doesn’t recognize the sensation at first, because he’s suddenly fucking _angry_ that Sebastian is publically flirting with someone who’s taken.

Everyone at Dalton has seen Robert’s wrist, has seen the _Clara Jones_ carefully carved into his skin. He doesn’t shut up about her, how they met, how much they have in common, how much he _loves_ her. And he knows that this car crash in front of him is a two way street but for some reason it just gets under his skin that Sebastian thinks he can just fool around with _anyone_ because he doesn’t belong to someone himself.

He briefly considers that it’s something other than anger running through his veins, something emerald green as he stalks right up to Sebastian and yanks him by his arm out the door of the café and into the hallway but the colors mismatch in front of his eyes because all he can see is _red._

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sebastian snaps, slapping Blaine’s hand off his arm.

“What am I doing? What are _you_ doing?” He asks, his voice rough and exasperated. “Why are you doing this to yourself? Do you want to get punched again, is that it?”

Sebastian shakes his head and straightens his back, like he’s trying to make himself taller. All it does is make Blaine angrier, because he knows just from his posture that he’s going to try and justify this situation.

“Robert and I were just talking.”

“I _bet_ you were just talking.” Blaine laughs, the sound peaked and echoing against the high ceiling of the hallway a moment. “Everyone knows he has a girl’s name on his wrist, what’s _wrong_ with you?”

Sebastian crosses his arms over his chest, smiles slowly. There’s a cold ice to his eyes, a dead sort of look, like he’s shutting himself down, keeping Blaine out. “Doesn’t stop him from being curious.”

“Stop it.” Blaine snaps. He’s had enough of this attitude, this ‘it doesn’t matter so why should I care’ shell that’s wrapped around the taller.

Because it _does_ matter. Blaine cares, even though he knows he shouldn’t. He can’t help it, something keeps tugging him right back to this spot in front of Sebastian. Like gravity. Evitable. Even though the universe says otherwise, they shouldn’t work yet somehow do.

“Why!” Sebastian exclaims, his arms snapping away from his body as he leans slightly towards him, making Blaine take a step back.

Something in the inflection of Sebastian’s voice digs into his skin, makes him shudder. He keeps taking a few steps back until he bumps into the doorjamb of another room. It’s an open common area but it’s empty, devoid of students, either stuck in their own classes or outside where the weather has broken. It’s cold but there’s fresh snow.

And boys will be boys.

“What do you care who I decide to spend my time with.” It’s not a question as Sebastian moves closer, their height difference causing Blaine to tilt his chin up to look at him.

Their eyes bore into one another, Blaine can feel the heat of Sebastian’s body even through the layers of his Dalton uniform, it seeps through the fabric of his shirt and kisses his skin. He clears his throat, tries to keep his breathing in check because every intake of air all he can smell is Sebastian’s cologne and body soap and _skin_ —it’s making him dizzy.

Sebastian brackets him against the wide doorjamb, hands on either sides of his neck, his eyes tracing the contours of his cheekbones and jawline. He should feel trapped like this, like a caged animal, itching to be free—but he doesn’t.

He feels the opposite, he feels like this is the _exact_ place he needs to be. He feels like he fits there, between his arms, like if he leaned in and molded against his chest he’d feel whole inside, complete in ways he didn’t think he could be.

And suddenly, he understands what that means. It’s a dawning sensation, settles over him like a wet blanket. His brain is still playing catch up with the rest of his body and organs.

“Tell me…” Sebastian whispers, Blaine’s eyes fluttering closed as he feels his breath brush over his face. His heartbeat is in his ears, his throat, his fingers clenching at his sides so he doesn’t do something stupid like _touch_ Sebastian. “that seeing me with other people doesn’t bother you.”

There’s a jerk reaction in his stomach that kicks into his chest, words scratching at his throat and voice box. “It doesn’t bother me.” But it doesn’t sound convincing even to his own ears.

The taller smiles slowly and he brings a hand down to play with a curl near his ear, tucking it away, letting his fingers trail down the side of his face.

“I don’t believe you.”

Blaine doesn’t know how long they stand there, practically pressed against one another like the walls are closing in. He can feel Sebastian’s heartbeat against his own, the way his chest expands and contracts with every intake and exhale of air.

This time, it’s Sebastian who kisses him.

It’s hungry and greedy, like Blaine might slip away at any moment. Sebastian cups his face and draws him closer, sucks on his lower lip and his body betrays him because he can’t help but _moan_ at how good it feels.

He shudders and pushes Sebastian’s body with his hands and he pulls back a moment, confused, like he’s convinced Blaine is pushing him because he wants him to stop. But on the contrary, he just doesn’t want to be pinned against a doorjamb anymore and gravity makes them stumble towards one of the couches.

They land haphazardly against the arm, Sebastian half sitting, half straddling it as he wraps his arms around Blaine’s waist, pulls him between his legs. A groan and gasp mesh together and get stuck in the shorter’s throat; he can feel their hardening cocks rub together in earnest and his fingers dig into Sebastian’s shoulders as his tongue explores his mouth.

They shouldn’t be doing this for a million different reasons; the place and timing is so wrong and as his hands skim through Sebastian’s hair and trail down his shoulders, fingers tugging at the material on his forearms he suddenly can’t stop thinking about Kurt and fuck, _Kurt,_ he’s cheating on Kurt.

A weight like a ton of bricks drops from a high height into the base of his stomach, almost makes him want to throw up. He’s stunned with an incredible amount of guilt but at the same time overwhelmed with how much he _doesn’t_ feel bad.

“I—” He pants, Sebastian’s mouth moving to kiss at his neck. “W-wait, I can’t do this.”

To his surprise Sebastian stops and doesn’t try to encourage him any further; breathes heavy against his collarbone a moment before pulling back. His lips are red and wet from kissing and Blaine brings one of his hands up to run his thumb over his lower lip.

“I’m not sorry.” Sebastian says, his voice surprisingly calm in wake of what they had been doing.

Blaine hums softly, glancing down to where his one hand is still grasping at the other’s dress shirt and blazer on his forearm, pulling it up and away from his skin…

And there’s something _there._

A hint of letters even though Blaine can’t make out what they are. Sebastian’s skin is red and he pulls back from him and stands from the couch before Blaine can decipher out what the name says. He was pretty sure he saw the person’s name began with an A. Was it a girl or a boy? Does Sebastian already know them? Why did it take so long for their name to appear on his wrist? How was that possible?

“I’m not sorry either.” Blaine replies, rubs the back of his neck. Because he’s not.

And even though Sebastian belongs to someone now (Alice? Arthur? Andrew? Allison?), even though that fact changes everything, it _doesn’t_ change how he feels. And maybe this was exactly what he needed to prompt his decision that he can’t stay with Kurt a moment longer.

He knows what he has to do.

He has no idea why it takes him so long to realize that he’s had everything so incredibly fucked up.  No matter if Sebastian belongs to someone now or not, he can’t _stop_ himself from feeling the way he does. He doesn’t belong with Kurt. Not yet, maybe not ever, regardless of what his own wrist says.

000

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the second part! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to sophisticatedloserchick who gave me a soulmate quote that inspired parts in this chapter and really helped me think about the difference between what a soulmate can be and what they sometimes simply are.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part three of three.

000

Blaine takes slow steps as he finds his way to Kurt’s dorm room, rubbing at his wrist in habit until his skin is red raw as he stands in front of his door. He has no idea what he can even say to him to make this okay but he knows he has to do it this time, there’s no going back.

He knows how this conversation is going to go, knows that Kurt is either going to scream until he’s red in the face or break down and cry. He knows it doesn’t make sense, why do this if they’re going to end up together anyways? Wasn’t this soulmate thing supposed to be simple? But Blaine can’t find it in himself to do it anymore, it’s like he _craves_ feeling complicated, because he feels more whole like that then he does any other way. He doesn’t want to lie to Kurt anymore, or himself.

He knows Kurt is going to tell him that he’s being ridiculous, that he’s caught up in a whirlwind of Sebastian’s charm or self-doubt. That with this red string of fate it’s black and white, that there isn’t time for new uncertainties. That being with him should _assure_ him.

But that’s where Kurt’s wrong. There’s _time_ for a hundred indecisions, for a million visions and revisions. 

Sebastian makes him feel like he has that time. Like he can make mistakes and cause coincidences and accidents and have it somehow lace together and still _mean_ something. It’s just taken him a little longer to realize.

It’s Sebastian that tears down his walls and shakes him awake, it’s Sebastian that shows him his insecurities and things that he can’t have enough of. He makes him realize things about himself that he hadn’t recognized or given a name.

He’s ripped him open and exposed him and made him sew himself back together. It’s made him better.

Kurt opens the door before he can knock and he seems to know what’s coming just from the look on his face. He lets him inside and Blaine tries not to think about how much time they’ve spent together in this room. On the bed.

“Is this about Sebastian?” Kurt asks but there’s no heat to his voice. It’s just very…matter of fact.

Blaine shakes his head, wraps his arms around himself and turns to face him. “This is about you and me.”

He loves Kurt, really he does, but he doesn’t love who he _is_ with Kurt. And that makes all the difference.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine tugs on the bottom of his blazer, not sure what else to say. “I just, I can’t do this anymore.”

Kurt crosses his arms over his chest and steps forward, to the center of the room, his eyes watching Blaine’s movements very carefully. “What changed?”

“I did.” He says, because it’s true. It’s not so much that Sebastian has inserted himself into his life but that the action has _changed_ him.

“What’s the point here, Blaine?” Kurt asks, his voice peaked in a way that Blaine knows he’s more upset than angry. “Why even _do_ this? We’re going to end up right back together at some point. It’s inevitable.”

Blaine nods softly, flashes of kissing Sebastian playing over and over again in his mind’s eye. On the bed, in the snow, against the doorjamb and on the arm of a couch. The warmth and insistence of his lips, the heat of his mouth, the smell of his skin.

“Maybe. There’s a chance we won’t.”

“ _Chance_?” Kurt grits out. “There are no chances when it comes to fate. Look at your wrist!” He reaches out and touches Blaine’s arm, lifts it to run his thumb over his rest. The skin aches a little and he winces, shaking his head as he gently detangles himself from Kurt’s grasp.

“It doesn’t matter what’s on my wrist.”

Kurt stares at him a moment, swallows thickly and tries to avoid the tears building in his eyes. “It used to.”

He looks away then, his shoes suddenly a lot more interesting. He goes back and forth, tries to determine whether he should tell Kurt about the kisses, how he _felt_ during them to try and make him understand. But at this point all that would do is hurt him, and that’s the last thing Blaine wants to do. He’s not breaking up with him to hurt him, he’s trying to avoid that trapped sensation he sometimes feels when he’s in this relationship.

How he thought he’d feel boxed in by Sebastian’s arms.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers because he’s not sure what else _to_ say.

“I should have known, you know? Should have saw it coming?” Kurt clears away the choked sound that’s built up in his throat from the tears. “That first day, when we met on the steps…”

Blaine frowns, trying to retrace his steps back to that very first day, tries to rake together what Kurt’s implying.

_It’s like someone knocks the wind right out of him and suddenly he knows. He knows from the complete and whole feeling surrounding every nerve in his being that his soulmate is behind him._

_He turns as Kurt walks down a step to meet him, bumps into a tall and lanky kid, bright green eyes with a French tongue who smirks at him, looking him up and down before passing. They connect eyes for a long moment before the taller passes by him and walks down the steps._

He ran into _Sebastian_ that day, before even meeting Kurt. Of _course,_ how could have he forgotten?

“You couldn’t keep your eyes off him even then.”

It’s like the moment he looks back on is suddenly new, colored in a completely different way. Nothing is the way that he thought it was—some things are new, fresh, raw and exposed. He feels lost but at the same time it’s like he finally understands how to feel.

Has this thing with Sebastian really been a mistake, or is it something that the universe knew would happen all along.

“This is absolutely ridiculous.” Kurt shakes his head, his arms clenching as he squeezes his own midsection. “I _deserve_ better than this.”

And he’s right. They both deserve better. They both deserve someone that they fit with. Blaine nods softly, takes that as his cue to leave and starts to do so before Kurt speaks up, one last time.

“He’s unpredictable.”

 _And sort of unbelievable_ ; Blaine smiles softly and turns back to look at Kurt for a brief moment. “Yeah, I think that’s what I might like best about him.”

000

Blaine is just passing the Dalton café on the way from Kurt’s room to another set of dorms on the other side of the grounds as he turns the hall to head outside. He’s glad he had enough common sense to switch roommates when they had had their break because he doesn’t think he could bare being in the same room with his _ex_ now.

It’s not until he’s walking on a designated sidewalk, snow on either side of him that he really starts to notice that his wrist is hurting him.

His feet pick up the pace; actually, hurting might be an understatement. It feels like the skin is starting to _burn_ and he barely has time to rush into his dorm room before he’s throwing his satchel down and whipping his winter coat off.

He winces, a short pained noise leaving his lips as he tugs the sleeve back on his button down his shirt. The spot where Kurt’s name is written is blistered with red skin, the letters marring together in a haphazard why. He forces himself to wrap his other hand around it, hisses upon contact and pulls his arm into himself like an injured wing and doubles over until the pain stops.

It takes a few long moments, tears stinging his eyes, a throbbing left in his ears as he tries to even out his breath which is coming in and out of his lungs in short straggled intervals. He has no idea what the _fuck_ that was but even receiving Kurt’s name on his sixteenth birthday hadn’t been that painful. He’d just woken up with the name, neatly scrawled onto his skin. No red, no pain, no nothing.

This is different. Was this because he had broken up with Kurt? Is he being punished because of a choice? He runs a shaky hand through his curls, slowly walking out of his room and down towards the communal bathroom, pressing his way inside with his shoulder. He hovers at a sink, letting his hands and wrist fall under cool water, his forehead coming to rest against the mirror, kissing his sweat soaked skin in a soothing manner.

When Blaine pulls back to dry with a paper towel, something different about his skin catches his eye as the red blisters and irritated marks begin to fade, like they never existed in the first place.

Sebastian Smythe, in perfectly neat script, has replaced Kurt Hummel on his wrist.

000

He doesn’t know how long he stands there staring at his skin before his feet carry him back to his room. He sits down on the bed, staring at the smooth S crossing over one of his veins and is tempted to follow it with his thumb. He doesn’t understand how something like this can happen, he’s never heard of someone’s soulmate _changing_ on their wrist. Not to mention he’s pretty sure Sebastian has someone beginning with an A on his own. It doesn’t make any sense—is Blaine destined to be with someone he can’t have?

To love and get nothing in return?

Blaine does the only thing he can do. He goes home. He drives half the night and disregards texts from friends asking him where he is, ignores a phonecall from Sebastian because the minute he hears his voice he knows he’ll spill everything.

And he can’t. Not yet. He needs answers or at least someone he can talk to _about_ Sebastian, about how he feels when he’s with him.  About how everything he thought he could depend on is now warped, it’s changed, it’s white paint with a drop of black ink and trying to add more and more white but never being able to get it back to that pure snow color.

 _That’s_ how it feels to be with Sebastian.

Like he’s trying to find his way in the dark, like he’s broken open with his nerves exposed, like he’s freefalling. No assurances, just chance. And how that can wake him up and send him spiraling all at the same time.

“Blaine?” His mother asks when she opens the door, looks at him for a long moment. “Honey, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at school?” She wraps an arm around him and pulls him inside, he doesn’t realize he’s shaking until he’s felt the warmth of his house envelop him.

He walks into his kitchen and sits at the island counter, his mother quickly putting on a cup of tea.

“You’re going to catch a cold.” She scolds gently, cupping his face before running her fingers through his loose curls that has melting snow along the strands. He hadn’t even realized that he’d left Dalton without his coat.

He doesn’t even remember the expanse of time in which he drove here, just that the road was smooth and the sensation of traveling, getting away, soothed him.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are we going to have to watch a Cary Grant movie to get it out of you?” She asks, making him smile softly as she places a mug in front of him, moving to retrieve tea bags.

“I think…I’m sort of in love with Sebastian.” He says, coming out in a rush like a kept secret hidden away somewhere in his lungs.

His mother hums and patters around the kitchen for a moment. “I had a feeling,” He must look surprised because she laughs. “Sweetheart, I saw your face when you came back from that ‘non-date’. There was something there, something real and tangible.” She presses her hand against his chest, over his heart, his heartbeat tapping against her palm. “Coming from here.”

“Something…very different than when you’re with Kurt.” She adds, a moment later, before pulling back to pour hot water in their cups. “Did you tell Kurt?”

He’s surprised it’s taken her that long to ask about him. He shakes his head. “No. I…I broke up with him. And then this happened.”

He undoes the buttons on his sleeve before yanking the fabric back, exposing his wrist with Sebastian’s name on it. It sends a little thrill straight down to his stomach, circulating through his whole body and making him feel lightheaded. He grabs the counter and doesn’t want to look at her but then can’t help it when her warm and steady fingers take his wrist.

“I don’t understand, I thought…I thought things like this couldn’t happen.” He guesses he has no idea what’s really possible; before he met Sebastian he never knew that some people didn’t have names on their wrists.

His mother’s hand moves down to his own to squeeze before getting out the milk and sugar. “It’s very rare.”

“Sebastian didn’t have a name before,” He says quickly, almost talking over her. It’s like now that the dam is broken he just wants everything to spill out. “And now he does.”

“Is it yours?”

Blaine frowns, his chin tipping down as he looks at the tea cup in front of him, steam curling out of the cup. “I don’t know.”

He wraps his cold fingers around his mug and his mother’s covers his hands. “ _You_ chose a different path for yourself, regardless of the outcome.” He guesses that’s true, he chose to break up with Kurt even when he knew Sebastian might belong to someone else. “And because you made that choice, your fate changed.”

Blaine tries to follow the progression of his actions; he doesn’t know if someone can really cheat fate. He has no idea if he’s actually made a life changing choice or if the universe has had this in store for him all along.

It wasn’t about _not_ ending up with Kurt—but the more and more he thinks about it maybe he was with him to find his way to _Sebastian_.

“Sometimes people think they’re making big life changing decisions, whether to eat at one place or another, walk instead drive to work, go left instead of right,” His mother lets her hands fall, her own wrist exposing his father’s name, “but really, they’re just following the same path that they’ve always been on.”

His eyebrows scrunch together, the pads of his fingers stinging as he pulls them away from the hot mug of tea, adding in sugar and milk absentmindedly.

“So is it about fate or coincidence?”

She smiles at him, like there’s some sort of beauty in his words. “Both,” She says knowingly. “It’s about both.”

000

It’s not until Wednesday that he sees Sebastian again in one of the common lounges, perched at the end of a leather couch. He’s by the fireplace, which has a small but crackling fire that heats the entire room. It’s still frigid out, snow is falling outside and can be seen through the large three piece window that’s displayed to the other’s right. There’s a few other people in the room, talking quietly, doing homework, sipping on coffee and waiting for the day to be over.

Sometimes Dalton gives him this feeling like it’s more of a holiday country club in the winter than a boarding school.

Sebastian is downed in a navy blue sweater that cuffs around his neck, the sleeves rolled up slightly to display his forearms and the expensive gold watch on one of his wrists—covering up the name now pressed into his skin no doubt and gray pants. His last class of the day is a study hall, hence the lack of blazer and tie and Blaine shakes himself out of his half stupor of standing there, watching him before he approaches the couch.

He doesn’t ask if he can sit but does so anyways, depositing his satchel on the other side of him. He leans his elbows onto his knees, glances at some of the books spread out on the table to figure out what homework Sebastian is doing.

Literature, from the looks of it, and a poem by T.S. Eliot.

“Paper?” Blaine asks and Sebastian hums, letting his pen rest between the pages of his poetry book. He turns and looks at him, his hair a little unruly and the shorter has to dig his fingers into his pant leg to resist running his hand through the strands.

“Your deductive skills are astounding, Anderson.” Sebastian says, making Blaine smirk and bump their shoulders together, a hint of a smile tugging at the ends of the taller’s mouth.

Blaine lets his hand wander to the poetry book, picking it up and reading over a few lines.

_Time for you and time for me,_  
 _And time yet for a hundred indecisions,_  
 _And for a hundred visions and revisions—_

 “So where did you disappear to?” Sebastian asks, angles his body towards his own a little bit, as he moves waves of his cologne waft towards Blaine’s nose.

He breathes deeply, like he may never be able to commit the scent to memory. He plays with the sleeve of his shirt, tugs it down over his hand. “Did you miss me?” Blaine teases, a laugh escaping his lips as Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“Hmm, more like I missed someone offering to buy me coffee.” He grins, a sparkle in his eye from the flames of the fireplace, his wrist turns slightly as he rests his arm on the armrest of the couch. Blaine itches to ask him to show him the name under his watch.

“You know how I feel about free coffee.”

“I’m sure you could have found another willing guy to charm into getting you coffee.” Blaine ticks his tongue off the roof of his mouth, hope that doesn’t sound as jealous as it feels, but of course Sebastian picks right up on that.

“I realize I only like to do that when you’re around to see it.” He smirks and Blaine lets out a sound that’s between a scoff and a laugh. Asshole.

“I was sick, I went home for a few days.” Blaine eventually says, putting the poetry book down on the table, sets his hands on his lap. It’s not exactly the truth but it’s the only thing he’s willing to give up at this point.

That’s what the school knows, it’s what his mom called in for to explain his absent days. But he should have known that the rumor mill had been working overtime on that one. While Dalton wasn’t like a regular high school, it had some things in common with one. And gossip was high on that list. Boys were just as capable of it as girls. Maybe even more vicious.

“I heard you broke up with Kurt.” He says softly, the crackle of the fire slipping between his syllables. Blaine nods softly, doesn’t try to pick apart Sebastian’s intentions from his words. “I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not.”

He can’t help but let out a short laugh because, it’s so _typical_ for Sebastian to respond that way he has no idea why he feels surprised. “God you’re so blunt.”

Sebastian grins. “Just honest, killer.” There’s a moment passed between them of Sebastian smiling at him and Blaine’s eyes glued to his lips, his heartbeat picking up in ways it shouldn’t, so loud he’s certain the other can hear.

Their eyes meet, green meshing with hazel and Blaine swallows as the smile softly fades from Sebastian’s lips, his body leaning a bit closer to speak to him like he’s telling a secret.

“Why did you break up with him?”

Blaine gives him a look because Sebastian can’t honestly be _asking_ that question. He has to know, he doesn’t understand what he’s trying to probe at. “You know why.”

“Because you felt guilty.” It’s not a question but somehow Blaine feels like it’s one and swallows. No. That’s not why he broke up with Kurt.

The kissing that had inevitably happened between them was wrong and maybe it shouldn’t have happened, maybe there wasn’t a lot _stopping_ it from happening in those moments. But when it comes down to it, when he lies awake at night and thinks about those three kisses, when he lets them sink into his skin and thinks about Sebastian’s lips and how they fit _perfectly_ against his own—

No, he doesn’t feel guilty. And that’s not why he broke up with Kurt.

Blaine just shakes his head at Sebastian’s statement, the taller leaning closer to him on the couch, almost crowding his space. He wonders if people piled around the rest of the common room are glancing at them, wondering what’s going on, if the gossip wheel is going to spin off its axis with what’s happening in the space of their breathing and heartbeats. 

He wonders, as Sebastian slips closer, if there’s anyone even in the room but them. He can't concentrate on anything other than the boy in front of him, nothing else exists.

“Then no,” Sebastian whispers. “I don’t know why.”

He’s suddenly nervous because everything he wants to say gets trapped under his tongue, the words running together and creating new ones. He doesn’t want to push Sebastian away but he knows he has to be honest about this sooner or later. He can’t hide his wrist under a sleeve for the rest of his life.

Sebastian will find out, it’s only a matter of time, and he’d rather if it came from him.

“I broke up with him because I _don’t_ feel guilty,” Blaine’s eyes follow Sebastian’s, trying to look past the green and determine what he’s thinking, like there’s words running through his bloodstream. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Sebastian’s mouth is close enough that if he really concentrates he could lean forward, brush his own lips against the other’s. And he almost does. Almost.

He breathes out, feels it reverberate off Sebastian’s skin and kiss his face, their noses bumping as Blaine’s nails dig into his skin through the fabric of his pants and the taller’s body heat seeps into his own.

“Because I wasn’t happy.”

It feels odd to say it out loud, to admit to someone else that while he and Kurt looked happy on the outside there were things that he never said and kept to himself about his own happiness. Cooper always told him that was one of his greatest faults, that it was great that he cared about other people but sometimes he tended to put their needs above his own. And by sometimes he meant all the time.

“And you are now?” Sebastian asks, processing everything slowly, like he’s trying to think before he speaks—which goes against his smooth ‘speak what’s on your mind’ way of doing things.

Their faces have been so close for so long that Blaine finally just nudges his chin forward and nuzzles their noses gently, the action surprising enough to make Sebastian smirk.

“I’m getting there.” He whispers.

“I can help with that.” He smiles slowly but before Blaine can respond Sebastian kisses him, slow and sure, their lips working against one another’s until they need to come up for air.

It’s not obscene, it’s surprisingly chaste for how long their mouths seem to be joined. But it’s different, they’re just content with feeling one another, with feeling assured that both of them are there and no one’s disappearing. It’s a kiss that’s equally felt on both sides, no barriers this time, no secrets.

No reason to hide anything.

“What a coincidence we should end up here.” Sebastian teases, nips at Blaine’s lower lip.

Blaine flushes but shakes his head, tugging back his sleeve. “Maybe, maybe not.”

Sebastian’s eyes fall to his wrist, his long fingers reaching out and running his thumb over his own name pressed into Blaine’s skin.

“When did this happen?” He expects Sebastian to sound more…well, he’s not sure, surprised maybe. Affronted. Or annoyed. He seemingly enjoyed not belonging to anyone and the fact that he’s on someone’s wrist now practically goes against ninety percent of his personality.

“After I broke up with Kurt.”

Sebastian’s hands linger on his skin, imprinting their mark on him, making him feel his touch long after he lets go.

“That sounds a lot like fate Anderson, I thought you’d be jumping all over _that_ one.”

Blaine gives him a curious look and shrugs his shoulder. “It didn’t really occur to me like that, honestly. Besides, I thought you wouldn’t want to hear that sort of thing, you don’t even believe in all this soulmate stuff. You even told me something like,” He fixes his sleeve and takes on this different, deeper voice to mock Sebastian. “’The soulmate thing only works because people put so much faith in it’.”

The other hums softly, glancing at Blaine before sitting up a little straighter in his seat. “Maybe I just needed the right incentive.”

They stare at one another a moment, Blaine trying to analyze Sebastian’s words well placed in his sentence, trying to understand what they mean without really asking. It takes a minute but then it clicks and he doesn’t wait for permission before reaching for Sebastian’s wrist, undoing his watch with precision to reveal a name.

 _His_ name. 

“I thought…” He thought the name had begun with an A, he distinctly remembers seeing an A. And there it is, plain as day on Sebastian’s wrist. His last name is a little more towards the palm of his hand than the B is, the letters aren’t lined up.

That’s why he saw the A first, which means, Sebastian’s had his name on _his_ wrist for quite some time.

_Maybe the person I was supposed to be with got fated to someone else._

He lets out a long breath, not realizing he’s been holding it in until his lungs start to burn slightly. His eyes trace the pattern on Sebastian’s wrist, his watch hanging loosely in his hand before he runs his thumb over it, makes sure it’s real.

Sebastian smirks softly, leans forward to press a kiss to Blaine’s hairline, his curls tickling his nose. It’s one of the most intimate things he thinks he’s ever seen Sebastian do and it makes something warm and distinct curl in his belly, the name for it something he’s only admitted to his mother about how he feels towards him. Even before they had matching names on their wrists.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, killer.” He says softly and Blaine finally lets himself relax, let everything seep into his bones, a complete feeling encompasses him, hugs his frame.

His forehead comes to rest against Sebastian’s and he lets his eyes close, briefly. “I’d say I’m sorry,” Blaine smirks, words echoing things Sebastian has said many times. “But I’m not.”

000

He sees Kurt while heading to Sebastian’s room to study for an upcoming final; they don’t see one another very often anymore, other than Warbler practice but it’s not like they’re not friendly when they have to be. He doesn’t know if he ever found out about the accidental (yet connected) kisses shared between him and Sebastian when they were still together nor does he ask.

He used to be able to read Kurt, read him so well like the lines were plain and clear on his face. He can’t so much anymore, they spend too much time apart. And Kurt’s different, in a way, but he’s not sure if it’s something he can name specifically.

“Blaine,” Kurt nods at him and Blaine smiles, tugging on the bottom of one of Kurt’s (new?) scarves as they come to stop in front of one another.

“Hi.” He sticks his hands back in his pockets. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” Kurt admits, lifting his hand to fix a hair out of place on his head. Blaine sees a flash of another name on his wrist, Elliot something. Blaine has no idea who it is, or if Kurt’s met him yet. He thinks Kurt might have flashed him the name on purpose so that he could see that they’re not tied to one another anymore. Or maybe to make him jealous. He’s not sure.

“Yeah, same here. So many finals.” He groans. “I’m actually just heading to study for one now.”

“With Sebastian?”

Blaine can tell it takes Kurt a lot of effort to say his name without pulling a face. A smile twitches on his lips. “Mmhm.”

“And how is he?”

He knows that Kurt doesn’t really care how Sebastian is, he’s just trying to be polite. Which is more than he expects out of him. “He’s good. _We’re_ good.” He admits because he just can’t help himself. He hears what other people think of Sebastian, of their relationship about how they won’t or can’t work because of how his boyfriend used to be towards anyone attractive with a decent pair of legs.

“And here I thought Sebastian didn’t have a name on his wrist.”

“He didn’t,” Blaine adjusts the satchel on his shoulder. “Things change.”

Kurt hums, looks at him carefully. “So you’ve been saying.”

They stand like that for a while, Blaine wanting to say a bunch of things seemingly stuck in his windpipe and voice box but he can’t force the syllables out. He wants Kurt to be happy. He wants him to understand that what had happened was something he had never planned for. That he never meant for things to get so messy or for them to become the people they weren’t when they met. He wants to say he _did_ love him. That he’s sorry.

He wants to thank him, selfishly, for leading him to Sebastian.

“Are you happy?”

Blaine looks up at Kurt’s question and nods his head, softly, like he’s unsure if that’s okay to admit. Kurt just smiles, and it’s genuine regardless of how small and presses a kiss to his cheek before walking past him, outside and into the snow.

000

Blaine’s quiet as he takes his scarf off in Sebastian’s room, the taller already spread out on his bed with his books and notebooks open. He still feels Kurt’s lips pressed to his cheek, his heart doesn’t ache because he misses him but…he finally feels like this is it. An ending of some kind, a chapter in his life finally written and closed.

It’s surreal feeling, in a way.

“You look cold.” Sebastian says and leans onto his side, opens his arm up towards the ceiling for him. Blaine smiles gently and toes off his shoes before climbing onto the bed with him, the warm weight of his arm settling on his back.

Their ankles tangle as Blaine lies on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, Sebastian’s open palm rubbing up and down his arm as Blaine tilts his head closer, turning to press a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

“You okay?” Sebastian asks softly, pauses to run his fingers through Blaine’s curls.

Blaine nods, his smile becoming more open as their bodies mold together, side by side, Sebastian pressing toying kisses down his jawline as the shorter’s fingers play with the pages of the open biology book.

“I feel like taking a break,” Blaine admits, even though they haven't even started studying yet. Sebastian just chuckles and rolls his eyes playfully but doesn’t shoot down the idea. The day is just starting out, they have plenty of time to study. “There’s this movie that I have back in my room, uhm, it’s a Cary Grant film…”

He waits, so used to Kurt’s nose scrunch and groan about old black and white movies and Blaine’s slight obsession with them. But the criticism doesn’t come and Sebastian’s hand falls down Blaine’s back and sneaks under his shirt, warm fingers pressing the dimples below his spine for a moment before he closes the bio book and his notebooks.

“The one with Katharine Hepburn? Because I like that one.” He says, stacking the school work into a pile to put on one of the desks. Blaine stares at him a moment, like he can’t quite believe that Sebastian doesn’t slip into making him feel bad for his interests.

Like Kurt used to whether or not he realized he was doing it.

“ _What_?” Sebastian rolls his eyes but smirks. “I have some taste, you know. And as long as I get to give you a blowjob about halfway through the film I don’t care what we watch.”

He grins cheekily but Blaine is so overwhelmed with how well they fit together, how complete he feels that he tackles Sebastian over onto the bed and joins their lips, greedily stealing kisses as the taller lets out small laughs of surprise and wraps his arms around him.

The movie, and in turn their studying, gets pushed back for another hour or so.

000

Blaine stands in line at the Dalton café for his coffee, glancing at his watch. He has about a half hour before his next class, perfect time to proofread one of his essays at a table to save some time later. He licks his lips and smiles at the barista as she hands him his medium drip, turning to find a table near the window but bumps right into someone.

He recognizes his cologne before he sees who it is, bright green eyes and a smirk that makes him smile and drives him crazy at the same time.

“Well, well, well,” Sebastian smiles, a joking tone to his voice. “Look at who I ran into. This is such a coincidence.”

Blaine’s free hand slips between their bodies, finding Sebastian’s which is waiting for him to grab onto it. Their fingers lace and their wrists turn to press in towards one another, matching names lining up, skin on skin.

“Oh please,” Teases Blaine, leaning up on his toes to kiss his lips gently. “This was fate.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who clicked on this and gave it a chance, hope you enjoyed it all and this final part :3 hopefully I'll be able to write longer seblaine fics in the future! *attack cuddles*

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you all enjoyed the first part! Feel free to let me know :3


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